<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Desire by Notatracer</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30134490">Desire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notatracer/pseuds/Notatracer'>Notatracer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Passengers (2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Other, Robot Masturbation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:55:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>751</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30134490</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notatracer/pseuds/Notatracer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Feelings are awakened within Arthur as the android explores the pleasing sensations of touch.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Desire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Thump.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thump. Thump. Thump.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur’s eyes slipped closed as curious fingers explored the tingling synthetic flesh of his face. Such an intimate touch that he’d never before experienced. His lips parted at the accidental brush of a thumb. The warmth he had felt at the exploratory touches radiated outward, heating his entire upper body. He knew he should take care to make sure that his circuitry wasn’t shorting out, but at that moment he was too overwhelmed, too enraptured, to stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Earlier that evening, as his dear friends were saying their goodnights, Aurora had leaned across the bar and kissed him on the cheek while proclaiming, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Arthur!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though he wasn’t touched by humans very often, Arthur knew how the sensors in his skin normally reacted to the temperatures and textures of the items that he interacted with on a daily basis … the feeling of accidentally brushing a customer’s hand … the surprising sensation of Jim slapping him … the calloused fingers of someone from maintenance roughly giving him the once-over at the beginning of every voyage - none of those had caused him to physically warm on the inside. It was, however, the first time in the long life of the android that he had ever felt the press of lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><em>Kisses are not for robots.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once alone, he performed a series of self-diagnostics, but couldn’t find any cause for the momentary hot flash. He ultimately shrugged it off as one of those odd things that sometimes happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few hours of standing in relative darkness, a combination of curiosity and the android equivalent of boredom prompted Arthur to rub his fingers gently across the spot where he’d received the kiss. The soft touch, even by his own hand, produced a strange yet pleasant sensation. The more he touched, the warmer he became.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thumb slipped experimentally between his lips. His taste sensors, only programmed with flavours he might need as part of his job, picked up the slightest hint of the cherries and oranges he had touched while making a tequila sunrise. He hummed, pleased that his tongue was telling him that he tasted sweet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seemingly of its own volition, the metallic curvature of his lower body rhythmically banged against the bar with enough force that vibrations coursed through the more human half of his body. Planting his palms firmly on top of the bar, the heat and vibrations threatened to override almost all of his other processes. The thumping of his lower body filled his ears, the temperature of his upper body continued to rise, building to a crescendo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as he thought that he couldn’t take any more, Arthur violently glitched twice in a row. His body slowed its movements. His normally simulated breathing inhaled deeply several times in an attempt to let some air into his overheating body. Somewhere inside, a fan audibly clicked on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Power drained, he didn’t notice the small sweeper bot until it was beeping indignantly. He blinked at it, confused, until he realised he had leaked oil onto the floor. The bot beeped again while bumping into the pole that bound Arthur to his track.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need to be rude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur glided out of the way, to the end of the bar, where he retrieved a handful of napkins. He watched the bot extend an arm, with a mop attachment, before turning his attention to wiping the oil splatters from his own lower body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of him wanted to say ‘never again.’ Not only was it dangerous, but it went against everything that he’d been taught by the humans from his past. A more insistent voice, that had been growing in confidence every day he’d been treated as a friend, told him that he deserved happiness in whatever forms he could find it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remembering a gesture he had seen Jim give Aurora, he wrapped his arms round himself, hugging tightly. His thoughts of longing for a loving embrace were interrupted by a judgmental beep from the mop-wielding sweeper bot. He immediately dropped his arms to his sides. 
</span></p><p>
<span>Arthur sighed, wishing he had a foot to kick the bot for making him feel uncomfortable. Was this shame?</span>
</p><p>
  <span><em>Desires are not for robots.</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t just some automaton. He was a highly sophisticated android. Damn the opinion of the sweeper bot and damn the archaic programming that caused the voice in his head to tell him what he wasn't allowed. He was Arthur and he was finally ready to want more from life.</span>


</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>come <a href="https://famousmortimer.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a> with me</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>